Once Bitten
by ShadowOfApate
Summary: Experimental Fic. Willow is an ancient warrior of the light, with a dark past concerning the Watchers Council.


Title : Once Bitten  
>Author : Tariq ( formerly Aeris Jade Orion )<br>Rating : R  
>Pairing : WRTM  
>Timeline : Season Six<p>

Summary : Willow is an ancient warrior of  
>the light. One who is very aware of the truth<br>about the Watchers Council.

Authors note: It's unbeta'd. At the moment I  
>have no beta reader for this genre. So drop me<br>a line if you're interested.

Second, due to health issues, and taking care  
>of my disabled mom, I haven't been able to<br>write much. But over the last several years  
>I've managed to slowly write on a number<br>of stories.

What I've decided to do is go ahead and  
>publish what I've managed to put together.<br>The stories are unfinished, and sometimes,  
>the last chapter I worked on is unfinished.<br>Plus, there maybe multiple chapters, each one a  
>different version. Just warning everyone.<p>

So I apologize in advance.

Disclaimer : Not mine. All characters belong  
>to Joss Whedon.<p>

00000  
>Prologue<br>00000

Willow flipped the innocent postcard over in  
>her hands. The image of the Vatican standing<br>out against a bright sun lit sky. She turned  
>it back over, fingers tracing the red postmark.<p>

An alchemy symbol, Uroboros. The snake in a  
>circle biting it's own tail. The never ending<br>cycle. Infinity. The beginning and the end.

Green eyes glanced to the far left. To the bold,  
>cursive script. Written with a foutain pen. It<br>was very short. Too short for anyone other than  
>her to get it.<p>

At the bottom was initials. Dr. V.H.

She rescanned the message again.

" We're here. Call when it's time. "

' Oh Goddess... No... '

00000  
>1897<br>00000

" Must I? " Willow questioned in exasperation.

It really hadn't been her year. It wasn't that she  
>disliked her life. While she freely admitted she<br>hated the current attitudes towards women, and boy,  
>did she ever, it didn't touch her very often.<p>

Most of her time was spent deep in the bowels of  
>the Vatican. Or on a deadly mission, hunting<br>monsters. So she could forgive the ignorant fools  
>who chained down the females who should rightfully<br>rule the lands. At least for now.

No, the problem was the Head of the Templars was  
>currently off dealing with Dracula, and Willow was<br>left with his mess. A complicated mess by the name  
>of Randolf Moore.<p>

A gypsy, were hybrid, with a mad scientist  
>complex. The man had no compuncture with cutting<br>into himself, or injecting himself with untried  
>chemicals. Mix in magic and she had a pounding<br>migraine.

" I do apologize, Dr. Powers. " Young Richards  
>blushed. " I did try to explain to Dr. Van Helsing,<br>but you are aware of how he gets were Dracula is  
>concerned. "<p>

" I know, Mr. Richards. " She brushed off. It wasn't  
>her assisstants fault.<p>

Aberaham had a grudge against Dracula. The vampire  
>had killed the Head's only son. No, not just killed,<br>held captured and tortured to death.

" However, the information we have on Randolf is  
>lacking. We have no idea what lythropy he has<br>been infected with, or what experiments he has  
>performed on himself. " Willow rubbed at her<br>pounding forehead.

" I understand, but Dr. Van Helsing's orders are  
>clear. " Richards shifted nervously. " There's<br>also been talk from upstairs. The Pope is  
>concerned about the recent attacks. "<p>

Willow sighed heavily, nodding once in  
>understanding.<p>

The Vatican was a strict and scary power. They  
>allowed a lot. Women, witches, gypsys, even<br>good demons, into the Templars. Just as long as  
>they under went certain rituals and were marked<br>by the Pope himself.

They were the Pope's army against the darkness.  
>The thing they kept the world blind about. Hundreds<br>of normals, and magicals working together to make  
>the world safe.<p>

She stood up to get to work. Moore wouldn't kill  
>himself, and it take her hours, if not days to<br>hunt him.

Black magic rained down on them. Power shaking  
>the underground base. Dust came loose, sprinkling<br>everything. Books fell from her bookcases, and  
>the single painting she had came crashing to the<br>floor.

It felt like an earthquake under her feet. Building  
>up quickily. Richards lost his balance immediately,<br>taking out a chair. Her office door tore away and  
>came down on him.<p>

Willow's magic anchored her to the floor. She  
>snatched up a set of single blade, dual axe's.<br>The back half had a round hammer like protrusion,  
>so she could even use them for nonlethal battle.<p>

She attached the sheath to her belt and raced for  
>the stairs to the upper levels. Relief filled her<br>at the sight of the artifact room and library  
>under lock down.<p>

No one would be getting in them now.

" Dr. Powers! " Rosemary cried out. " It's the  
>Council! They're attacking us! They have the<br>Slayer with them! "

Willow stumbled at the surprising words. Yeah,  
>okay the Council had always hated the Templars.<br>The Watchers, and the Slayer had orders to  
>attack on sight. But to outright attack the<br>Vatican...?

She sprinted up the stairs. Level after level,  
>and into the depths of hell.<p>

' Goddess, why...? '

11111  
>Chapter One<br>11111

Willow smiled in relief from her bedroom window.  
>Xander and Buffy were in the backyard talking.<br>It would be a lot of work, but they would be  
>okay.<p>

Though, she somehow didn't see Xander letting  
>Buffy forget the Spike thing anytime soon.<p>

Now, she just had to make a decision about Tara.  
>She loved her more than anyone she'd ever had a<br>relationship with. Unfortunately, she had a  
>number of secrets which had lead to their many<br>fights, and eventually, their break-up.

If she decided Tara was truly worth it, she  
>would have to come clean. Spilling secrets she<br>wasn't sure should ever be revealed. Even to  
>the woman she loved.<p>

She gasped in pain, taking a single step back,  
>and bonelessly folding to the floor. Blood<br>splattered the walls and curtains. Pooling  
>around her body.<p>

The sun shifted through cracked glass, revealing  
>three bullet holes. Red dripping from the glass<br>in glistening dew drops.

The red head blinked through the strange dream.  
>A shaking hand clumsily tracing her forehead and<br>pausing at the spiderwebbed location of her left  
>temple, aiming toward the back of her head.<p>

' Oh... '

She withdrew her hand to her chest, wincing as it  
>landed immediatly on another wound. Almost right<br>over her heart. Just missing it by centimeters,  
>if even that much.<p>

Willow continued over to the right and wished  
>she hadn't. Over her lung was the last bullet<br>hole. Explaining why she was having trouble  
>breathing.<p>

She'd been in worse situations, of course. Hell,  
>she'd be right as rain in a little while. She<br>just needed to...

She glanced around the white abyss in surprise.  
>Then down at her self, to see her wounds still<br>present and bleeding rather badly.

" Will? " " Buffy appeared. " Oh god, you're  
>hurt! "<p>

" So are you. " Willow responded.

Buffy had been shot, too. A direct shot to the  
>heart. The slayer's grey sweatshirt was heavy<br>with blood, and gaining more every second. Too  
>much, too fast.<p>

Buffy was dying.

Willow approached her best friend, hugging the  
>slender blonde tightly. It was funny how fate<br>worked, but sometimes it was for the best.

She channeled her healing into the blonde. First,  
>the bullet had to come out. Then, the body had to<br>be healed. The heart, the blood vessels, the veins,  
>and more blood had to be produced.<p>

The witch felt her body weaken rapidly. Her  
>breathing worsen until her right lung collapsed.<br>Thinking became harder, and harder.

" Will! " Buffy supported her full wait. " What's  
>happening? What did you do? "<p>

" Tell... Tara... I... love..." She faded back  
>to her body.<p>

She opened her eyes to her bedroom gasping and  
>fighting for each breath. Blood bubbled from her<br>mouth, foaming, and running out.

" Buffy! Willow! Is anyone here? Tara! "

Footsteps approached and something hit the  
>carpet close by. There was a small gasp, then<br>running fading down the stairs.

' Dawn. How much more is she going to suffer? '  
>She wondered through the haze of her muddled mind.<p>

More running was heard, this time coming back.  
>Then she blurrily saw Dawn kneeling beside her.<br>The teen dropped the cordless on the floor, along  
>with an armful of towels.<p>

She moaned as the teen shifted her body and packed  
>folded towels under her. Dawn placed three thick<br>towels against each wound making it extremely  
>uncomfortably to lay there.<p>

Worse, the teen did the same to the front. Tightly  
>holding the towels against the bullet holes. Her<br>long slender hands quickly becoming coated with  
>the slick liquid.<p>

" I'm sorry! " Dawn apologized with a flinch.

Willow smiled weakly at the earnest teen. Managing  
>to bring her hands up to lay on the teens.<p>

" Dawnie... " She rasped. " ...my will is in my  
>book of shadows. "<p>

" Don't talk like that! You'll be fine! The  
>ambulance is on the way! "<p>

Willow closed her eyes slowly. She was just so  
>tired. So bloody tired. Too many fights. Too<br>many deaths.

Just too much.

11111  
>1897<br>11111

Willow flipped off the ceiling, spinning twice,  
>and landed in the middle of the six collapsing<br>bodies of potential slayers. She pushed off the  
>balls of her feet, darting in and out of the<br>magical addicts from the Council. Her axes  
>slashing throats, severing arteries, and taking<br>off heads.

She grimly saw her comrades dying around her. The  
>hundreds of mercenary demons and were's the<br>Council had hired easily overtaking them. Hell, she  
>was having an equally hard time.<p>

Her magic abilities the only reason she was still  
>fighting.<p>

' But where's the thrice damned Slayer? '

She leaped down the staircase to the next level.  
>Dashing through the chaos, her axes and magic<br>lashing out at anyone in her way.

A piercing scream of death rattled the war inside  
>the halls of the Templars. Richards cracking voice<br>making the hair on her neck stand up.

Willow speed toward her office. She knew she was  
>too late to save him from his scream. But she'd<br>be damned if she didn't avenge his death.

She entered the room which had once been her haven,  
>and stared in the black eyes of the sixteen year<br>old Slayer. Blood ran from her black hair. The  
>dress with more layers than an onion was covered<br>in skin and pieces of Richards insides.

Richards. Seventeen. Just barely a man. Engaged  
>to be married to a his childhood sweetheart.<p>

The red head's eyes flickered to his body and  
>back to the Slayer. She'd gutted him. From his<br>pelvic bone up to his chin, from shoulder to  
>shoulder. Gouged both eyes out, tore his tongue<br>out.

Twitching her wrists, all the accumalated blood  
>slid off them, leaving them clean. The red bladed<br>axes glistened in the shadowed office. The quarter  
>moon shaped blades raised up thirsting for their<br>first Slayer kill.

The Slayer cocked her head with a grim twist of  
>her lips. Not a smile, or smirk. Just a little<br>pull of satisfaction. Of pleasure. Demonic,  
>manic, slightly peaceful.<p>

A dagger hung in the dark haired woman's right  
>hand. A plain weapon. Nothing special about it.<br>Just a dagger. Something to wield and forget.

Willow felt the carefully oiled black leather  
>covering brass handles of her axes. It was so<br>soft from years of use. Braids of dyed red  
>leather gave her hands better grips, preventing<br>slipping.

She forced her breathing to slow through the  
>sweat dripping down her face. Into her mouth,<br>the salty liquid stinging her split lip, and  
>cut up tongue.<p>

Then the Slayer was on her.

The fight was a blur of rage. Both women angrier  
>than the other. The Slayer at her slavery to the<br>Council, and Willow at what the Slayer allowed  
>the Council to mold her into.<p>

Blades lashed out in lightening fast strikes.  
>Fists and feet trying to pound the other into<br>the grave. Strangely silent other than the raspy  
>gasps for breath, and grunts of pain.<p>

Willow, however, noticed one thing. In all the  
>dirty fighting. All the attempts to slash each<br>others throats. The need to make blood run.

The Slayer was strangely slow.

Not a lot. Not even enough to be noticeable by  
>most people. It was just by a second. One second<br>was more than enough for the right person to kill  
>a seasoned Slayer.<p>

' She's suicidal. ' Without a hint of sympathy.

She twisted around the dagger as the Slayer  
>overextended. Her arms crossed over and she<br>uncrossed them, taking the warriors head with  
>her axes.<p>

Willow ran from her office. She sent her magic  
>out into the building, searching the living<br>potentials for the next Slayer.

' There! '

Jack rabbiting over a werewolf, she buried both  
>of her axes in the back of the new Slayer before<br>she could take a single step. The teen feel dead  
>at her feet and she wrenched her weapons free.<p>

The witch spun around, killing the werewolf, and  
>ran for the next potential.<p>

' I have to save the Templars. I have too. '

In the distance, she saw Rosemary fall to a  
>werebear. The gypsy being eaten alive. Claws<br>and teeth coming up for a moment with glee,  
>to dig back into the moving, screaming body.<p>

' Goddess, please, help us. ' Willow prayed as  
>silent tears fell while she killed another Slayer.<br>' Somebody, please, help us. '

22222  
>Chapter Two<br>22222

She was in pure, unadulterated agony. Her head was  
>pounding something fierce. It was fuzzy and felt<br>stuffed with cotton. Thick bandages were wrapped  
>tightly around it.<p>

Similar bandages were on her chest. Completely  
>covering her from her shoulders to her belly<br>button. Thick, with heavy padding added to  
>them.<p>

Willow swore her chest was one large bruise.  
>With bone deep pain radiating outward. It felt<br>like someone had sliced her up, and put the  
>pieces back willy nilly.<p>

' A penny for pain killers. ' She moaned. ' Or  
>at least a bottle of whiskey. '<p>

Reluctant to face the world of hospitals and  
>bad guys who cheated, she cracked her eyes<br>open.

' Bad idea. '

She was in a private room. On one side of her  
>bed was Tara with a death grip on her hand and<br>Dawn, on the other was Buffy and Xander. Giles  
>was at the end of the bed.<p>

" You're awake. " Tara smiled shakenly.

" I'll get the nurse. " Xander squeezed Willow's  
>leg, then left the room quickly.<p>

" You scared the crap out of us. " Buffy took her  
>other hand. The Slayer's hazel eyes watery. " Don't<br>ever do that again, understand? "

" Yes, ma'am. " She mumbled weakly. " No dying. "

-  
>To Be Continued <p>


End file.
